


The Escape Artist

by SorginaKaskarina



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorginaKaskarina/pseuds/SorginaKaskarina
Summary: Post season 4 and Raquel's entry into Banco Espana. What is the woman doing voluntarily jumping into the most heavily guarded place in all of Spain? Was there a plan Sergio and Raquel didn't discuss with the band?What will Alicia do to the professor... and more.
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 22
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not writing this to fix canon. What's done is done, even though so much of it sucks. Nairobi & Berlin are still dead and the Ibiza chat is very much a reality, unfortunately.
> 
> Also, this is probably not going to be a long story. I originally intended to write this as a OS cause I got this theory in my head and I just can't let go of it. But I am lazy... and I have another story that needs completing. So it'll probably be two or three chapters.

What kind of idiot would escape a maximum security prison and volunteer to be airdropped into the most heavily guarded place in all of Spain? The more Palermo thought about it, the lesser sense it made. Everyone had been so occupied with Nairobi’s brutal murder and her emotional funeral that the only thing they were interested in was tearing Gandia into pieces.

This is why they weren’t fit to lead. They were too caught up in emotions to see that acting on this hurt would only mess up the plan further. The heist was in such a precarious position, they couldn’t afford to put another foot in the wrong direction. Palermo understood pain, but he was in charge because he also understood the realities of their situation. That is also why Tokyo wasn't in charge, but he’d be damned if the girl understood that. Tell her she wasn’t good enough and she’d throw her toys out of the pram like the obstinate mentally, six year old that she was. And so he’d had no choice but to go along with Sergio’s request in the heat of the moment. 

Now that the euphoria of executing Plan Paris was over, he couldn’t help but think over and over again about Sergio and Raquel’s crazy plan. What were they not telling him? This was his plan, he’d worked on it for years, perfecting each element with Berlin. Now it seemed like Berlin’s stupid brother and his opinionated girlfriend were out to throw it all out with their stupid improvisations. Unable to reach Sergio on the radio, Palermo decided to approach Raquel - he would do it in front of the banda. Ask enough questions to push her into a corner and then just trust the hot headedness of Tokyo and Denver to coerce the answer out of her. In this instance, Palermo decided it didn’t matter that they were up against it, and recovering from a major setback with the world’s security forces onto them. Some questions couldn’t wait.

Raquel changed into the red jumpsuit in the bathroom attached to the Governor’s office and couldn’t help but take a moment to mull things over in her head. One, she had known she was part of the resistance since the day she had taken the flight out to Palawan. They didn’t have to be robbing anything, the very act of being with Sergio amounted to a declaration of her defection. But here, standing in the Bank of Spain in this red jumpsuit, with all the chaos surrounding her had made it more real. Two, inspecting the damage on the wall that hid Gandia’s panic room and the debris surrounding her in this building confirmed what Raquel had known from the start. Sergio was naive to have thought they could rescue Rio and steal all the gold in Spain without any lives being lost. If they thought they had a mess on their hands it was safe to assume they didn’t have much experience with what a real mess looked like. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub she held her head in her hands. There was no turning back now, the stakes had never been higher.

\----*----

Outside the Bank of Spain, less than 500 meters away a furious Colonel Tamayo marched up and down the tent, wrecking havoc with his anger, flailing his arms around like a madman, swearing at everything and everyone who came in his way. Angel and Suarez exchanged telling looks, they had been through this before. Tamayo’s anger was understandable, but it was only making his subordinates panic. This is exactly what the professor wanted, chaos all around them, the media and the government up their asses, and now chaos in their ranks. What was the trigger happy Colonel going to do next?

Just when Angel was about to say something to placate Tamayo, a group of men marched into the tent. “Colonel Tamayo, I am Colonel Sanchez from central command. General Arrazola has requested you take a break, rest for the day and report to his offices tomorrow to discuss next steps. Colonel Prieto will stand in for you here.”

Tamayo looked like he had been slapped in the face. This had to be a joke. Prieto? The bumbling idiot who needed anti-depressants and couldn’t get an erection after what had happened at the fabrica. Stood in his corner Angel could see Tamayo getting redder and redder in the face, it looked like his veins would pop any second now and just when he looked like he was about to say something, Prieto walked in and went straight to the man.

“Luis, you have done a commendable job here. I don’t think I can do better, which is why I am only standing in for you, 24 hours and you will be back. Get some rest.” He said evenly putting a hand on Tamayo’s shoulder to calm him down.

Tamayo sighed. Sometimes being part of the system sucked. You were obligated to be polite even when you didn’t feel like it.

\----*----

As she exited the bathroom, Raquel saw the band sat in various positions in the Governor’s office - all eyes on her as she closed the bathroom door behind her. They looked like they were on edge; “what’s wrong?” She asked. Palermo who was sat in the Governor’s chair, his feet on the desk smiled like a Cheshire cat at that, Raquel raised an eyebrow at him, she knew he was trouble. They had enough problems without worrying about what this clown was up to next. The silence was broken by Tokyo.

“What’s going on?” The girl asked.

Raquel sat in one of the chairs in the office and looked her in the eye, “you’ll have to be more specific than that. Because I am in no mood to narrate the events that have brought us to this moment all over again.”

She was obviously referring to the arduous testimony in the courts before her rescue, but Tokyo didn’t know that. Yet to her credit, the girl showed no sign of confusion and asked again, “why did you come here after your rescue?”

“I’m surprised you’re asking - you, of all people who chose to enter the fabrica after being rescued.” Raquel answered smoothly, earning a “joder” from Tokyo before the girl continued, “that was different. I couldn’t reach the professor and I had to prove a point to Berlin. You had neither of these problems. So why?”

“Sergio didn’t tell you?” Seeing Tokyo shake her head negatively she leaned back in her seat and replied, “we wanted to bolster the defence in here,” a pause as she looked at Palermo before continuing, “and Sergio wants me to end the operation and lead everyone out of here.” Another pause and she looked Tokyo in the eyes before saying, “we’re not losing another soul in here - not one.” She struck a cord with that statement. There was a confidence in her voice that her ex-colleagues in the police would recognise. If Angel and Suarez had heard her in that moment they would have told the band the inspectora meant business, but new as they were to this side of Raquel, they got the message. There was a quiet determination in her eyes that gave them confidence. They would live to see another day, Raquel had a plan to get them out; their questions were put to rest with just that. Perhaps it was because of the ease and confidence with which she spoke, or the fact that they were mentally and physically exhausted, but nobody complained when Raquel announced she was taking charge of the rescue operation: Plan Gibraltar.

But there was Palermo, Raquel had known he would throw a fit when she would challenge his leadership. She had discussed this with Sergio. But the combination of grief and numbers can be a strange thing. The very band that had stood by as Palermo staged a walkout and threatened to blow up the entrance while they were operating on Nairobi now stood up to him. Half threatening, half pleading him into submission.

Raquel wasted no time putting her plan into motion. She knew Palermo was still a problem and he made no secret of his displeasure at her taking charge. She asked Tokyo to keep an eye on Palermo and monitor the hostage situation together with Manila and Matias. They couldn’t afford another hostage crisis and needed to be extra careful after Arturo’s little stint. Tokyo had wanted a more “active” responsibility but putting an unconscious and very securely tied up Gandia together with the rest of the hostages had placated her. Giving Tokyo a high profile hostage, one who had killed her best friend gave the girl something to focus her energies on. Raquel hoped it was enough keep her busy and not mess up the rest of the operation anymore than she had already done.

Stockholm and Bogota were dispatched down to the vault to see how things could be sped up with a simple instruction: they needed to melt all the gold as soon as possible. Denver, Rio and Helsinki were in charge of scouting the parameter and making sure Gandia had not created any breaches while he was out on a prowl.

This left Raquel alone in the Governor’s office with the archaic radio they were using to communicate with Sergio. The others were slightly worried at his lack of communication since they had announced Raquel’s entry to the bank. But Raquel was sure that he was okay. After all, what could possibly go wrong in his secret hideout, she had asked the team. He was on his own, so it was possible he had decided to take a break after being on edge for so long. In any case, Raquel reminded them that they were to follow protocol. Only worry about the professor if there is no communication for four hours. Only 45 minutes had passed since Raquel had joined the others, Sergio was okay, he had to be okay. The determination in her voice gave the band confidence and Raquel realised they weren’t very different from her subordinates in the police. They just needed steady leadership to guide them. Not Palermo’s brand of shooting from the hip, maniacal cussing and swearing. Or Tokyo’s version of entertaining every weird idea that entered her head and shooting at everything that made her cross for so much as a second.

Making sure the door was closed behind her, Raquel set to work. One message. Two messages. Then the third message to the professor and she received no response. Only then she spoke the secret message she had memorised two years ago, four simple words that she had been itching to speak: “the Armada is sailing.” Raquel couldn’t help but jump up in glee when the she heard the reply, “Francis Drake is heading on to Lisbon.”

This was it. Her time to implement these carefully laid out plans had come. One misstep and they would all be dead. There was no room for errors.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raquel puts her escape plan in motion and we find out what happened to Sergio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took some time to figure out the details for this story, and honestly I want to rewrite the first chapter because I was so excited when I first had this idea I was just eager to get it out. Anyway, I hope this one is better.

The first sound he hears comes from a leaking faucet somewhere in the distance: drip… drip… drip… persistent, annoying - the sound hurts his head. The floor, cold beneath his feet, what happened to his shoes? He feels restraints of some kind cutting into the flesh of his wrists and ankles when he tries to wriggle in his seat, his throat is parched. Then he hears a loose floorboard creaking in the distance, the unmistakable sound of someone pacing. His anxieties start playing up, if only he weren’t gagged and blindfolded. He needed to see what was going on around him.

How did he get here? He wonders racking his brain. The last thing he remembers is the adrenaline rush when they airdropped Raquel into the Bank of Spain. Then a minute’s worth of euphoria, as they celebrated the success of their crazy operation, promising to honour Nairobi’s memory. What happened after that? Suddenly he remembers, Alicia Sierra, _joder_. She had found his hideout, he remembered the gunshot - a few seconds later something, maybe a needle piercing into his arm, then nothing. He must have passed out; now she had him captive.

He thought about the last time an inspector of the CNP had tied him up. He was in the house in Toledo, and his captor was Raquel Murillo. The woman he had fallen in love with and who he had been certain was in love with him too. The depths of his consciousness told him she would never put him in harm’s way. That is why he had gone willingly, leaning on the crutches of an emotion entirely new to him, desperate to stop hiding from the woman he had fallen for. He realised the truth had only helped him back then because she had demanded answers. No such luck this time. 

He struggles in his seat, and groans like the animal he feels in captivity to let his kidnapper know he's conscious. He is rewarded with a hand on his shoulder, _“buenos dias, hijo de puta”_.

\---*---

Palermo felt useless sitting in the library, watching the miserable faces of their hostages as Tokyo, Manila and Matias paced the room wielding M-16’s. This was a waste of his time and rather insulting given his capabilities. Palermo wasn’t one for rules unless they suited him, and in this instance they suited him rather well. They hadn’t planned this; out of nowhere Sergio had decided to airdrop his girlfriend into the Bank of Spain and made her in charge of the plan Palermo and Berlin had perfected over several years. 

Palermo felt he knew and understood love more intimately than most people. Even in its most basic unrequited form, love gave one something to look forward to; it made life worth living. But to allow love, or any other emotion to supersede art was a criminal offence in Palermo’s book. That is how he and Andres had viewed themselves. They weren’t any old robbers, they were artists, their heists, works of art.

Palermo had followed the news, he had seen how someone as introverted and bookish as Sergio had managed to upend Raquel in less than a week. Her exit from the CNP had been less than graceful, love was just a happy excuse. As far as Palermo was concerned, Raquel’s greatest achievement was making Sergio call out to various deities in the middle of the night as they had sex over and over again. It had been nonstop the entire time they had stayed in the monastery and the echo within those walls only made the sounds worse. 

Sergio’s sex life had Palermo half annoyed, half amused. If only Andres was alive to see his little brother, the man they were convinced was asexual go at it. It seemed like Sergio had saved himself for over 40 years and was making up for all that lost time with Raquel. What did they eat anyway? Palermo had a healthy libido himself but those two just went on and on and on.

Scoffing to himself, Palermo thought about the implications of Sergio’s love life on this heist. He didn’t know what this new plan was, but he was sure it was a disaster because it was an improvisation - that’s the one thing Sergio had always been against. Was Raquel Murillo that good in bed that she had managed to fuck him into a state of oblivion? Why else would Sergio relinquish control and not even bother to tell the rest of the band. Palermo grew increasingly restless as the wheels in his head kept turning. He knew something was out of place, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

\---*---

When Raquel entered the vault to examine their progress and product, she couldn’t help but admire Nairobi’s work. She could see no faults with the makeshift furnace and assembly line, it was a nifty little setup. The woman had clearly been an invaluable asset to the band; from her role in the first heist where she oversaw the printing press that made them over a billion euros, to this little furnace. The band’s self-described “quality control manager” had been a special woman, and it was a shame her life ended the way it had. Perhaps the bigger shame, and Raquel almost felt guilty for allowing herself to think it, was her dogged obsession with breeding.

Thinking about Nairobi reminded her of a drunken evening with the girls, and much to her chagrin - “Ibiza”. Raquel remembered how quickly that carefree evening had turned into one of revelations. Thanks to her training at the police academy and two years spent working undercover early in her career, Raquel knew exactly how to ease people into opening up without feeling threatened. Spurred on by weed, good scotch and vodka, Nairobi and Tokyo had shared the details behind Nairobi’s impending pregnancy. Raquel gritted her teeth, playing with tiny grains of gold as she replayed the evening in her head.

_ Once they were drunk enough, Nairobi started talking about the kind of child she hoped she would have, and Tokyo as the to-be godmother had chipped in. Their drunken excitement had been contagious and despite monitoring the amount of alcohol she consumed, Raquel felt herself more relaxed than she had ever been in their company. That ended when the child started to sound more and more like a mini Sergio. Raquel wondered if a desire within the depths of her subconsciousness was making her think that way, when Monica drunkenly voiced her thoughts, “your baby sounds exactly like the professor.” _

_ Raquel expected Nairobi and Tokyo to burst out laughing. After all they had spent many an afternoon making fun of Sergio, relishing in the knowledge that they were able to make him uncomfortable. Instead, she felt her world come crashing down when they giggled and said Nairobi’s “friends with benefits” arrangement was with Sergio. She then listened with stunned silence as the girls recounted Nairobi’s arrangement with the professor. _

_ Raquel was surprised Sergio had agreed to something like that without so much as a mention of it her. They hadn’t discussed having a child in all the time they had been together. There had been no time for it as far as Raquel was concerned. There was the task of setting up home, organising care for her mother, private tutors for Paula and settling into a domestic routine with Sergio. Her first thought was to blame herself; Alberto had always accused her of being so bogged down with “duty”, she forgot to make time for her partner’s needs. She berated herself for not realising the obvious. Sergio, was well into his forties and had no living family of his own. It was only natural for him to want a child of his own. But why hadn’t he shared this desire with her? _

_ Then, there was Nairobi; whose behaviour was more stupefying than Sergio’s. Raquel had seen Nairobi’s file after the first heist and knew she had lost a child to the system. Sergio later told her it was what had motivated the girl to join the fabrica heist. Yet, here she was; several million euros and two years later, somehow convinced that having a child would make up for another. _

_ Had Nairobi been sober and discussed things with either Raquel or Monica, who were both mothers, they would have reminded her of a fundamental truth that came with motherhood: you can’t replace a child that is alive and out there with another. If it were that simple Raquel wouldn’t have signed up to a nasty custody battle with Alberto after their divorce. _

_ They say memory impairment is the free prize at the bottom of every vodka bottle. That was certainly true for the girls in Sergio’s band. They had gotten so drunk that night they didn’t remember the Ibiza conversation the next morning. Raquel thought it was best to not restart the conversation. Sergio’s band of merry opportunists had accepted her, she had even forged a bond with Monica and Helsinki over their love for parenting and music respectively, but there was still a great deal of caution on both sides; and Raquel respected that. _

_ It was different with Sergio, however; they in a committed relationship. She understood his need for control in all things “professional” if that is what one could call a life of organised crime; and she tried to make sure he knew she was respectful of his personal space. Their personal lives were another matter and Raquel made it a point to ensure they took even the smallest of decisions as a unit. Like the subject of birth control for instance, when the IUD made her menstrual cramps and soreness too much to bear and Raquel’s gynaecologist suggested she try another method of birth control, they had had made the decision to switch to condoms together. Raquel remembered how the topic had flustered Sergio at first, but he had seemed okay after Raquel had sat him down and explained that couples were supposed to decide things together. _

_ After waiting a whole week for Sergio to tell her about his little arrangement with Nairobi, Raquel realised he probably wouldn’t until it actually happened. She knew her boyfriend was different, but he was also a highly intelligent man. In what universe did he think he could be in a relationship with one woman and have a baby with another? _

Raquel was brought out of her reverie when Bogota came up to her and gave her a count on how much gold they had melted. She sighed, realised this wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about Ibiza, it wasn’t going to happen anyway because of Nairobi’s tragic death. Raquel nodded absentmindedly continuing to play with the grains of gold, before looking up at Bogota and said, “We need to get everyone together for a chat, it’s time to start transporting it but I’m afraid we can’t do it the way we had planned originally.”

\---*---

Outside the bank of Spain, Luis Prieto nervously paced the tent, he had less than twenty-four hours before Tamayo returned and took charge of heist again. Less than twenty-four to put an end to this insanity and redeem himself in the CNI. To say his life had been hell since the heist in the Fabrica National would be a gross understatement. The CNP’s lead inspector had defected to the band on his watch, every possible intervention and arrest attempt he made had failed and Prieto’s career had taken a serious hit. That had started to change when they got hold of Anibal Cortes; Prieto could taste blood, he knew was close, so close. If only he played his cards right.

Thinking just that, Prieto announced he was going to do a sweep of the tent for bugs, asking for a radio frequency detector, he ordered everyone to leave the tent.

\---*---

The band regrouped in the governor’s office again. Raquel looked around the room and noticed the different expressions on the faces of her companions. Monica and Denver’s confusion; the fear on Rio’s face, poor kid was still reeling from the effects of letting Gandia escape; the hurt on Helsinki’s face; Tokyo’s curiosity and confidence; and Palermo. Raquel had a hard time reading him, was it a mixture of distrust and contempt on his face? His skepticism didn’t surprise her, but what in God’s name was that contempt all about?

Forcing herself to focus on the group instead of worrying about Palermo, Raquel took a deep breath before announcing, “I have good news and bad news. So let’s play a good news, bad news game.”

Raquel’s announcement was met with a round of _“joders”_ \- the only people who managed to maintain their composure were Tokyo and Palermo. Not surprising in the least, thought Raquel before continuing, “good news, we’re doing pretty well down at the vault, way ahead of target." There was a round of cheers at that. "Bad news, I can’t seem to establish contact with the professor.” She noted the worried looks on everyone’s faces, and urged them to calm down. “You know the rules, that cannot stop the plan. Next bit of bad news, we can’t flush golden grains through the old drain pipes.”

Raquel paused, letting the information sink in. This time, she managed to get a reaction out of Palermo, “why the fuck not?” He almost shouted, seething now. This was good, Raquel could work with anger, “well, the CNI pumped water through them to prepare for an emergency fire response.”

“So you had us melt all that gold in double time for nothing?” Asked Tokyo.

“No, this brings me to my last piece of good news,” Raquel replied. “Sergio and I studied the old plumbing system when we found out. We have identified one of the old sewer lines that can be used instead. The drainage system goes up to Teatro de la Zaruela and then stops completely.”

Rio spoke up at that, “why does it stop?”

“It is part of a sewer system that has not been used since the old theatre burned down. When they rebuilt over a hundred years ago, the construction techniques used were more modern to prevent future fires. Less metal and wood, concrete foundations that overrode the plumbing. That meant they had to rethink the water and sewer lines.”

“So we just flush everything down that line like we’re taking a big shit and take it out the other side?” Asked Denver, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want my gold mixing with prehistoric potty.”

That earned him laughs from the band. Tokyo asked everyone to calm down before interjecting, “so this way we ship the gold exactly how we had planned with the old water system. Just a different direction?” Seeing Raquel nod, she added, “sounds simple enough.”

Palermo spoke at that, “Only it isn’t. What our dear Lisboa doesn’t know is the old water lines worked because of the piping network in the basement. We would pump it down this end and collect at the old hydrant the other side. Berlin and I studied the plumbing for weeks. The old sewer system is blocked.” He scoffed at Raquel.

Unflinching she replied, “Correct. I would have come to that if you would just let me finish.” Addressing the band, she continued, “we have to dig up the old sewer system. But not only do that the way you guys dug up a tunnel at the fabrica, it has to be a clean job. We dig it up, pump out the gold and then we have to close off access with cement. Cover it with something in the building, camouflage it for long enough to be able to collect the other side without anyone discovering the piping has been disturbed.”

Her audience was hooked, but a bit flabbergasted, so Raquel smiled and said, “I haven’t told you the best part yet. We need to do all this in twenty-four hours.”

The revelation was met with another round of _“joders”_ , her companions getting worked up now, Palermo loudly spoke over the chaos, “you have got to be fucking kidding me. The digging alone will take us over fifteen hours. Then we need to flush out the gold with enough water so the gold goes to the old septic tank at Zarzuela. Then we need time to cover our tracks. We’re looking at a minimum of 72 hours. It’s impossible.”

Raquel replied smoothly, “we don’t have that much time. The CNI is planning an intervention and they won’t mind losing a few hostages if that helps them get us out. We need to make the operation quicker somehow.”

Palermo started laughing manically now, shaking his head slowly, “too bad señora. Last I checked I was the only engineer you have here. So unless you and your boyfriend have come up with an engineering solution, what I say goes.”

Raquel stood up and walked over to Palermo. “That’s the thing. Sergio and I don’t have a solution. But we were confident you would be able to figure out a way in all of this. This is why you’re in this building Palermo, because you can do math and physics like no one else. The rest of it, the muscle, the logistics, no offence but all of us have more experience at that stuff.” Putting a hand on his shoulder she added, “this is where we desperately need you.”

Seeing the gleam in his eyes, Raquel knew she had given him the ego boost he so desperately craved. She mumbled a quick gracias and pressed his shoulder when he said, “give me a couple of hours to figure this out. Denver, bring me the blueprints.”

At that, Raquel asked the others to return to their positions and give Palermo time to work his magic with numbers and science, 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. Now that Raquel and Palermo are working together, what will he do to get the gold out safely? How is Sergio going to escape?
> 
> So many questions.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay or nay? Tell me what you think guys!


End file.
